Teachings In Estimation
by heyjudeee
Summary: While he had improved exponentially from being a young schoolboy introduced to the art of espionage, Alex had also become more hollow, more careless. Blunt foresaw only destruction in the boy's future if he didn't shape up. Or be whipped into shape. "Mrs. Jones, I'd like you to call in Alex Rider. I believe it's time to have a word with him."
1. Place of Solace

**March 3rd**

Alan Blunt's place of solace was his office. White walls, dark rug, grayscale pictures of scenery adorning the wall by the door, a couple of comfortable chairs, and his beautifully crafted, oak wood desk. With his papers organized on its top and his hands clasped in his lap, he silently appreciated the stoic elegance of his workspace.

Blunt had always been a simple man in appearance. Plain clothing in terms of colour surroundings, and when one of his sons stepped on his glasses by accident, he never let them go crooked for more than a day. Of course, in mind, Alan Blunt was an enigma.

Blunt leaned forward in his office chair, straightened a pen, and moved his elbows to the desk, his clasped hands going in front of his chin. Out of context, he looked to be a man pondering simple thoughts- business matters, or other. In context, he was plotting the monopolization of one infamous young ward, Alex Rider.

The boy was becoming more and more resilient with each mission, and more resistant. While he had improved exponentially from being a young schoolboy introduced to the art of espionage, Alex had also become more hollow, more careless. Where he'd once value his life, he now strived nearly for destruction. He'd just gone on a mission, in fact, that had nearly taken his arm completely off in a car chase. And he'd brushed it off, not with a humble sense of recklessness, but with a nearly irritated sense of failure. Blunt foresaw only destruction in the boy's future if he didn't shape up. Or be whipped into shape.

Blunt glanced out the window, thoughtful, and allowed his lips to quirk up slightly. He pressed the intercom on the righthand side of his desk and cleared his throat. "Mrs. Jones, I'd like you to call in Alex Rider. I believe it's time to have a word with him."

There was a pause, only lasting a second at most, but Blunt recognized his colleague's hesitation nonetheless. She replied, "Yes, sir," with a tone laboured and ridden with regret. Blunt nodded once, and reminded himself to be thankful for no such feelings concerning Rider.

**March 3rd**

Alex's body jolts to life, and his eyes meet a nearly blinding white ceiling. His thoughts are muddled and when he tries to breathe, they come out as mere gurgles. He's lying on a metal table, there's a mask over his face, it's pumping drugged oxygen into his mouth. He lifts his hands to remove it, only to find them constricted to the table. Panic begins to rise in his throat as he kicks his legs, only to find their condition is similar to his arms. The light on the ceiling is making him squint, and he can't see until a broad-shouldered figure moves into view, blocking the light from his eyes. He hears a chuckle and a croon and a hand is on his shoulder, a syringe is injected into his throat. He's losing consciousness and a hand runs through his hair and with unforeseen roughness, the hand grabs his hair, lifts his head, and slams it back into the table. Alex hears his name, crooned repeatedly, tone changing from comforting to mocking to comforting to mocking. He can't breathe, he's losing consciousness, he's going to die-

"_Alex._"

Alex's eyes flung open and he looked to the side and Mrs. Tulip Jones was standing by his bedside to his left. He was being held down and wrangled by a group of nurses, who all looked as confused and afraid as he felt. Mrs. Jones muttered a dismissal, and after hesitant glances at Alex, they left. Mrs. Jones sat in the chair by the bed, and Alex glanced around the room. He was in a hospital, sitting in a bed with three pillows behind his back. Four IV's in his left arm, two in his right, one in his lower neck. No blinding light, no broad-shouldered man, no syringe. A hallucination? Alex dragged a hand across his face, sighing in relief and exhaustion.

"Hello, Alex," Mrs. Jones greeted, a crude reminder of her presence. He realized then that it wasn't a yell that had brought him out of his panic attack; she'd simply said his name. In a stern, constricting tone, she'd commanded him like a dog. Alex wondered if that was all he was to them.

Alex gave her a weary glance. "Mrs. Jones. I just got back from a mission, and I'm not exactly in pristine condition for another. I hope that's not why you're here." He didn't think it was, but he'd been wrong before.

Shaking her head, Mrs. Jones pursed her lips. She took a moment to answer, to find the words. "Mr. Blunt is requesting to see you in his office immediately after you are well enough to walk. The doctors have informed me that should only be a few days. I'm here to tell you ahead of time. We are sending a car to fetch you at noon on Sunday." She stood, smoothing her pencil skirt and folding her hands in front of her. Her eyes raked over him, and he felt uncomfortable in his own skin.

"What day is it?" Alex asked quietly, voice barely audible as Mrs. Jones turned to leave.

"Thursday." She replied without looking at him. She exited the room, and with a last side glance at him, she was gone.

Alex relaxed back into his pillows, using his thumbs to crack his knuckles. The sound reverberated through the room crudely.

**March 6th**

As he walked down the hall, Alex realized that he could find his way to Blunt's office blind. He laughed bitterly, startling he woman leading him. Once they arrived, the woman opened the door for him. Alex prepared himself the walk to a chair without a single glance at Blunt, but stopped the moment he stepped into the room. In front of him, in the chairs he had planned on sitting, sat four SAS soldiers. Immediately, Alex controlled his expression into one of minor surprise and exasperation. They, fortunately, could not seem to do the same. Alex recognized Snake, Eagle, and damn if it wasn't Wolf. And an unfamiliar face. Alex filed the man away for later scrutiny.

"Blunt." Alex acknowledged coldly, eyes examining the man coldly. Blunt stared back at him with his gray eyes filled with stoic pleasantries. Alex hated that about him. Hated that every time he was in this office, the only thing Alex could focus on was mirroring that unbreakable mask.

"Alex," Blunt returned. "Welcome, sit down."

Alex glanced towards the chair Blunt was referring. The back was to the window, and it sat between the soldiers and Blunt. "I'll stand, thank you." Alex wasn't about to paint a massive target on his back by sitting in the chair, thanks.

Blunt nodded once and said mildly, "If you insist." He turned to the soldiers, who still looked shell-shocked, though had the decency to try to look normal. "I do believe all but one of you have met. Ah- Panther, was it?" The unknown man nodded, looking vaguely uncomfortable. "Panther is Fox's replacement, Alex. And, Panther, Alex trained with your unit for a few weeks... a few years ago. I can't seem to remember how many-"

"Three." Alex remarked almost reflexively. His eyes darted to Blunt's. The man's lips quirked, and Alex reminded that anything he did or said became chips for Blunt to use against him. He crossed his arms tighter over his chest.

"Yes, three," Blunt hummed happily. To the unit, he probably seemed more emotionless, but Alex could see the satisfaction in the way Blunt made Alex's nerves grind. "Well, I'm sure you're wondering why you're here. Alex, here, is a bit rusty when it comes to many things the SAS provide- gun training, hand to hand combat, agility... You see my point. We've agreed for Alex to return to the SAS and pick up where he left off. I've arranged for him to bunk with your unit." Alex had to hold back his scoff. Gun training, hand to hand, agility... He'd improved in those categories, if anything. What was Blunt playing at?

Wolf spoke up, eyes sharp with anger, voice controlled due to his position in this situation. "Sir, why are you putting him with us? And for how long?" Unable to help himself, Wolf grunted, "A child doesn't belong in the SAS, sir. He's no good there."

Immediately, Alex glanced at Blunt. The man's eyes narrowed, and his eyebrows raised slightly. The look of a man scorned, Alex thought. But after a moment's pause, Blunt nodded, as if agreeing. "Alex has experience in the field past your expectations, I assure you. If you're worried about him falling behind you all..." Blunt chuckled. "He won't."

Panther spoke up for the first time. "You're... Are you insinuating that his credentials are higher than ours?" He sounded incredulous.

Blunt locked eyes with the soldier, and Alex couldn't deny that he felt sorry. Blunt may anger Alex beyond logical thinking, but Alex would admit to the fact that with a single gaze, Blunt could convey his power and his will to use it. "That's exactly what I'm insinuating."

Panther's expression changed to surprise, and slight insult if Alex was reading well enough, and he clenched his jaw to prevent himself from speaking further. Wolf, however, had no problem with speaking further. "Sir, you can't be serious. We took him the first time- give him to another unit! I'm not sure you've thought this throu-"

"Sorry to interrupt, but I'm in the room with you, you know." Alex interjected. Though Wolf didn't know it, Alex was saving his ass. Sure, he was saving Wolf from Blunt's quelled rage, but it was a favour nonetheless. "I won't fall behind, I won't bother you. If it'll make you stop bitching-" Okay, that one had been for his own benefit, "-I'll even keep to myself." When Wolf failed to respond in time, Blunt clapped his hands once, bringing attention back to himself.  
"Wonderful. Alex will return home and pack his things, and he will be joining you all tonight. Dismissed."

The unit stood and left, each giving Alex glances of their own genre. Snake's was thoughtful and suspicious where Wolf's was downright insulted. Eagle looked a bit friendlier, and Panther's only goal was to take as much in as possible. Alex figured if he were a grown man being told that a teenager was among his ranks (higher, but Panther didn't need to know that) he'd be pretty ticked, too.

"You're full of lies today; I hope you haven't saved some for me." Alex almost sneered. Blunt's expression was unwavering. "I'm sufficient in all the things you're sending me for. What's the real reason?"

Blunt ignored him, predictably. "A car is coming around to bring you to your house. There you will pack a suitcase full of things -no more than what will fill the suitcase we give you. Your house will be left unperturbed, and you will be there for as long as we see fit. Mrs. Jones will see you at the end of each week to evaluate you. When you finish packing, you will be transported to your new home by two of our agents. Are we understood?"

"Evaluate me on what?" Alex was almost offended. Was he a test subject for them to poke and prod?

"That is none of your concern."

"None of my-" Alex exclaimed, furious. He clenched his hands and grit his teeth, turning and leaving the room. Downstairs, a sleek, black car sat outside of the building, and Alex felt an urge to run home. He got in the passenger side, unspeaking.

They arrived at the Rider household in a matter of minutes. Alex had almost hoped the ride would go on for hours, and as he climbed out of the car and looked up at his house, he found himself hoping that the house would collapse with him inside.


	2. Broken Glass

****Ok hi. So a few things- I'm gonna be honest i cant remember if the man in Brecon Beacons is called the Sergeant or what but that is what he will be called, haha. Ok soo enjoy! if you have any questions or something doesn't make sense i probably made a mistake so feel free to tell me! thanks, and remember to review ! :)

**March 6th, 23:15**

Alex sat in the backseat of the vehicle, staring wanly at the back of two agents' heads.

The suitcase was on the seat next to him; he hadn't brought much. Hadn't had space to. It was small, and all Alex had managed to fit were his favorite combat boots, a few pictures of Jack and Tom, sweat pants, a couple shirts, and a pistol and bullets. The gun wasn't loaded, obviously, and Alex hoped he wouldn't need it. The thought came dryly. Alex didn't even feel secure putting his life in the hands of trained soldiers. He probably should have been more concerned about that than he was.

Their arrival came quickly, and as the car unevenly trekked across the gravel, a dull sense of uncomfortable anxiety built up in his chest. Alex reluctantly dragged the suitcase out of the car. The wheels nicked on the rocks and twigs on the ground, and he wished Blunt had at least provided him with a duffel.

The Sergeant's office was close- a fact Alex was very grateful for. Alex tugged the suitcase up the metal staircase and into the office. The Sergeant didn't stand upon his entry, but nodded at him and gestured to a chair. Alex seated himself quietly. The Sergeant's eyes followed his movements, almost like he was searching for something specific.

"Is there something I can help you find?" Alex quipped, momentarily forgetting where he was. He'd been gawked at and ogled by enough adults to safely say that a snide comment here or there wasn't unexpected. But, in the Sergeant's eyes, Alex was an unwelcome guest- a kid to babysit. Even thinking it nearly made Alex cringe. Quickly, he added, "Sir."

"Cub." The Sergeant spoke gruffly. He didn't seem offended or angry- more like, he seemed hesitant. Alex could tell he was looking for the right words to use. Seemingly frustrated with stepping around broken glass, he threw his hands up. "Damn if I'm going to speak to my own soldier like a careful mum. Cub, when your little organization said they were givin' you back to me, I couldn't have said no fast enough. They insisted, and I asked for a damn good reason to put you -a seventeen year old boy- in with my men. I didn't think they could, but they gave me one."

The man stopped speaking for a moment, observing Alex again. Alex almost found it amusing that the man couldn't multitask like he'd learned to do- observing and acting at once. The man seemed to be waiting for him to speak. "Um, what was that, sir?"

The Sergeant didn't move immediately, but when he did, Alex almost wished he hadn't.

A thick file was slapped onto the desk in front of him. The front was blank. When the Sergeant flipped open the first page, Alex winced. A picture of him was taped to the page. He had been unaware of the picture's existence- in it, his face was turned to the side, eyes distant as if lost in thought. He could only just tell that his shirt was that of Brookland's uniform- he'd probably just gotten out of school. He looked visibly younger than the Alex sitting in front of the Sergeant now. Printed next to the picture in thick, black lettering was his name.

"I still didn't believe this." The Sergeant explained brusquely. "But they-" the man dragged his hand across his face and sighed. "Shit, Rider, they had videos."

Underneath the confusion and panic that was making a home in Alex's mind, Alex noted how desperate Blunt was to send him here.

"They showed you videos," Alex repeated, "and a file." He almost couldn't believe his ears.

The Sergeant didn't answer, but nodded. He seemed relieved to finally tell someone- _a man of his word_, Alex thought, _Blunt and Jones must've made it clear that this was classified information._

"What I'm trying to say," the man went on, "is that you are an SAS soldier here, first and foremost. You follow my orders, and those of your Unit's leader. I'm not gonna lie to you; I wish I could unread that file, unwatch those videos. I wish you weren't who you are, but you are who you are, so we've just got to work with it. Understood, soldier?"

Alex thought that underneath the callous speech, he could pick out a meager acknowledgement of Alex's skills, of what he'd been through. Validation of his skills. His experience.

"Yes, sir, thank you, sir." Alex stood and saw himself out, dragging the suitcase with him.

**March 6, 23:37**

The cabin was just about as he remembered it. A few beds and not much in between. He'd have to find something to satisfy his own entertainment needs, but that had never been too difficult before. The unit had all gone to sleep, and Alex kept quiet as he slid his suitcase underneath the bed and slid onto it. His thoughts raced and his body ached and he wanted to be at home and he wanted to be in his bed, he wanted to wake up to a high voice and the smell of slightly burnt pancakes-

"Stop." Alex breathed. It'd been barely audible. His breathing had gone uneven and his eyes felt hot. He pressed his palms to his eyes and rolled onto his side. He needed to forget about that. He needed to stop thinking about it. He needed to separate himself from it.

Jack was gone. Had been, for about six months. He'd been living alone, under MI6's permission. Sabina and her family had offered, but he'd never impose- never endanger them like that. He knew how threatening his mere existence could be. He also had to keep the house. It wasn't optional- emotionally, he wasn't ready to let someone else create memories, let someone else occupy the space that should have been his. Yet another chip MI6 held over him- Alex's compliance for his house. If he refused, they'd sell the house and send him to the orphanage, even if only for a year. He'd be homeless just after, and with his high school credits, he'd be wrecked. He was trapped.

Instead of dwelling on it any longer, he kicked off his shoes and forced himself to get underneath the stiff covers. He pressed his face into his pillow, and in a matter of minutes, he dozed off.

**March 7, 6:30**

Alex awoke to the sound of hurried shuffling. He glanced around the cabin groggily, eyes focusing gradually. He sat up in the bed and stifled a yawn. Eagle and Wolf were tugging on their boots while arguing, and Snake waited patiently by the door, watching them bicker in amusement.

"Dammit, Eagle, what _the hell_ don't you understand about 'wake us up at six'?" Wolf growled, struggling with his tangled shoelaces.

"Sorry, Wolf, my man," Eagle replied cheerily, "but you know I'm a heavy sleeper. Put Snake on breakfast duty- he wakes at every little sound!"

"I won't do it every day, Eagle," Snake chipped in lightly. "Pull your weight."

"Snake, buddy, come on. Take one for the team?" Eagle pleaded with him.

"No."

Eagle mock-gasped.

It alarmed Alex, the friendly air of their conversation. They were mostly turned away from him; they'd probably forgotten he was there.

The blond slid out of bed and stretched, barefoot. His joints popped. Alex had always been pretty fond of mornings. Waking up was always easy.

"Cub!" Eagle broke off whatever Wolf was about to say, grinning. Alex suspected he was more happy about the fact that a new distraction had presented itself.

Alex nodded his head at Eagle once, not quite sure how to go about acting. Did they still hate him? Alex had no problem if they did, but he wanted to know for the sake of his own pride- no need for him to make a friendly fool of himself only to find out they still held childish grudges.

"Sleep well?" Snake asked from the door, eyeing him with a strange expression.

Alex nodded again. He held Snake's gaze before turning his eyes away. They seemed friendly enough so far.

"Enough formalities- who's up for some grub?" Eagle stood and marched out the door, Snake following close behind. Panther, who had been shrugging on a jacket near the back of the room, mumbled hello to Alex and left.

Wolf glanced at Alex. The mere sight of the blond seemed to strike a chord. Wolf's jaw clenched and he looked away, breathing through his nose. The man stood and left briskly and silently.

Alex figured he couldn't expect much from Wolf- they'd mostly settled their differences. And by settled their differences, Alex meant Wolf had seen what he could do at Point Blanc, and if he didn't realize that Alex wasn't doing kiddy work, then Alex didn't quite know what he'd do.

He stood, listening to the way the bed creaked and the floorboards moaned and the feint chatter from passing soldiers outside. His senses had become more acute lately, he'd noticed. He'd been on several missions since his second run in with Scorpia. It was an ordeal he'd rather not remember. The entire thing had left an emotional scar on him. He didn't want to relive any of it, and yet he found himself back in the chair, tied and exhausted. He found himself watching Jack driving away in the Land Rover. Often, he'd wake in the middle of the night, scream tearing at his lips the way it did back in the fort in the Sahara. He didn't want to. Desperately, he didn't want to. Didn't want to feel or remember. Didn't want to remember Mrs. Jones telling him that Blunt's original plan was to retire, but he had decided to stay on the job a while longer.

Didn't want to remember the way she had the audacity to turn away before telling him that the reason Jack had died and the reason a shooting occurred at Alex's school and the reason for Tom's injury was Blunt. It was all Blunt.

A pang in Alex's head brought him back to reality, and he cringed, palming his eye. He often got headaches when he thought of the misfortune that had become his life. Not to play the role of the clichéd teenager, or anything.


	3. Easy Ride

Sorry it took so long ! there's a timejump in this chapter and i think i know what I'm going to do with this story so I'll update more frequently. And I'm going to try to make chapters longer after this one ! Now that I know where I'm going with it, it'll be easier to put more in, thanks for bearing with the horribly short chapters so far haha :)

also monsterunderyourbed, I totally missed that ah ah ah darn. OK so then forget the 17 part- he just looks older than he is. That was a stupid mistake, I'll try to keep those to a minimum ! thanks for pointing it out to me though !

Thanks for reading !

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_March 7 ; 7:00_

Alex didn't expect the training to be easy. But he also didn't expect for it to be difficult.

He supposed that with all the time he spent scaling buildings and sneaking through ventilation systems (he's kidding, obviously, that didn't happen... often) he wasn't exactly physically accustomed to running ten kilometers right after breakfast and then jumping into drills. He was positioned next to Snake, at the end of the line of soldiers currently doing practiced push ups. Alex didn't fall behind, but he was certainly more out of breath than Snake was. The man cast him a sidelong glance when he cleared his throat, and Alex huffed in amusement. Snake probably thought Alex didn't do much outside of his missions - an unfortunate circumstance that stopped after the incident at Point Blanc, which Wolf undoubtedly told at least Snake and Eagle about, if not Panther, too.

The drill leader barked at the group to stand at attention. He strode down the line, his eyes sharp and ruthless, inspecting every inch of the soldiers standing in front of him. His gaze lingered on Alex a second longer than the others before he ordered them to proceed to the obstacle course. Alex wiped the sweat off the back of his neck and shivered. His body was hot and the air was cold- an odd contradiction.

The schedule was packed today. It was the first day back since Spring Break, so Alex supposed it made sense for them to be pushed this hard, but in the back of his mind, he wished he'd been informed that, for the first few days, he was in for anything but an easy ride. First up had been the ten kilos, and then the drills - which were similar to what a high school gym teacher would call "warm ups", only multiplied by about one hundred - and, for the K-Unit and a few other units, the obstacle course. Then, thank god, lunch, and after lunch came shooting evaluations, and lastly, another obstacle course, aquatic edition.

If he were being honest, Alex would say that he wasn't all too excited about the aquatic course. He'd have to keep his shirt on- Blunt had specified that Alex's presence at the camp was classified, and that he was to go to any such length to keep it that way- to keep everything under wraps. Including himself.

The obstacle course was short but difficult. It'd recently rained, so the mud was thick and cold, and the equipment was soaked. K-unit was set to go second, after L-Unit. Alex watched the first man -short but muscular- step up to the line, and when the timer began, he shot off. He was taken by surprise when the mud -despite looking semi-hard and heavy- grew slick underneath his heels. Alex watched him push forward past multiple obstacles, observing where he seemed to have difficulty and where he seemed to exert himself. He did the same with the three following soldiers. Wolf and Snake were in front of him, but by now Alex felt confident in his ability to navigate the course. They flew through the course, themselves, seemingly having little to no difficulty.

Alex stepped forward and pushed down the feeling of being watched (to this day, he had difficulty being in front of crowds for the lone reason of feeling exposed, utterly and horribly exposed). His shoes sank into the mud and he lifted them a few times before the timer began. The minute he heard the click and the order, he was off. His legs carried him swiftly across the mud - it took a moment for him to get used to the feeling, but once he was accustomed to it, there was barely any difficulty in the exercise at all. His fingers were nimble and quick, and he used his entire body weight to hurl himself over the wall. He lost balance when he landed, nearly crashing to his knees had it not been for an instinctive roll. When Alex realized what he'd done, he almsot stopped there. He pushed on to the finish line and ignored the looks of surprise when his time was announced, albeit hesitantly. What he was more concerned about was the mud covering his body from his roll- he'd done it without thinking, and through the mud no less. When he went to stand by his unit, he expected silence. Instead, Snake clapped him on the back and Wolf stared at him for a moment through eyes of scrutiny before nodding once and mumbling gruffly, "Nice work, Cub."

Alex allowed himself a smile.

_June 3rd ; 20:00_

Alex's stomach grumbled violently. He'd missed the beginning of dinner, which had started at seven, and was beginning to wish he'd hurried with his shower. Today had been particularly dirty -it'd rained and the air had been thick. Crawling through the mud had felt like crawling through hot, wet concrete. He wasn't complaining, though; exercises like these were precisely the ones he enjoyed, the ones helping build him into quite the athlete.

He'd been at Brecon Beacons for about three months, now. Weekly, as Blunt had promised, Jones came and visited. Alex's schedule was modified on those days for ten minutes out of training, and the feeling of unease and skepticism that had harboured itself at the pit of his stomach the first few visits quickly dissolved into a routine comfort. They didn't talk about much; she asked him how he was, how he was feeling? Physically and mentally? What was he eating? Any night terrors, lately? How's his relationship with his unit? Good? Good.

She kept to formalities, kept herself strictly business, and Alex suspected that was why it was so easy. She didn't try to play it off like she was just having a nice chat.

Alex's visit with Jones was tomorrow, now that he thought about it. The drive up was miserable- four and a half hours through winding mountains. He wondered how she could stand it.

In other news, the K-Unit and he had become closer and closer in the past three months than Alex could have ever expected. Wolf no longer looked at him like a fugitive, and Eagle had become much more comfortable with involving Alex in his jokes. Snake had grown a bit suspicious of Alex's tendency to never show any skin besides his arms, head, hands, and neck to them, but whenever he tried to push it, Alex made sure to dance around the subject skillfully. He was good with words, good with persuasion, good with evasion. Snake was no exception.

Panther was a bit more complicated. Over the first month and a half, he'd insisted that Alex was a child- a teenager. He shouldnt' be here. Panther had been adamant about that. When Alex received a pat on the back or a quiet compliment for his performance, the look in Panther's eyes was nearly always disapproval. Sometimes awe. Alex had tried to tone down on the action, to be honest. He didn't push as hard when he knew there was something he was good at. The first day of shooting practice, Alex had shot three into the heart of the target and two into the abdomen, and only in a minute. The soldiers around him had stared in perplexed awe, some looking unsure, some looking unconvinced. It was then that Alex had decided to give himself a bit of a handicap. Now, he twitched his hand when shooting, putting the bullets a little off target. Now, he made sure to slip once or twice while on the obstacle course. Now, he made sure that, during gun assembly, he took just a few seconds longer than the last person to finish. He was being careful. He had to be.

Blunt had told him not to reveal anything, but Alex probably couldn't care less about Blunt's request. No, keeping his identity and his missions a secret was for the sole purpose of Alex's dignity. Jack had always looked at him with eyes full of pity, looked at him with her lips thin and her eyebrows drawn. And Alex knew all she saw was an abused teenager. She didn't see a triumph or victory. She didn't see his accomplishments, as sick as they may have been. She didn't see his skill.

And maybe Alex was the sick one. Maybe he shouldn't be proud of himself. Maybe... He was unstable. Maybe he wasn't secure, maybe pulling the trigger in practice felt better every time. Felt more natural. And maybe that should have scared Alex. Set off alarm bells, maybe told him that something was gravely wrong.

It didn't.


	4. Forgot

__Hopefully this one's a bit longer than the previous ones! Thank you so much for reading ! It really brings a smile to my face to see you guys saying that you enjoy reading my writing, haha, so thank you

One thing; I don't usually review and edit my writing past spell/grammar check (which is admittedly a bad habit, but alas, I am regrettably lazy) so if you find that I've made too many mistakes, definitely tell me so that I can get someone to help edit or just take the time to do it myself. Thanks!

Also **(this one is important) **(and also a spoiler for this chapter i guess) there is a **WARNING** in this chapter. The **WARNING** is that if you have previously or currently have/had **PANIC / ANXIETY ATTACKS,** then I advise you to be careful when reading or even stop reading here. I'd hate to trigger you. I used to have panic attacks, but since I've had therapy for it I'm not as easily triggered. This could potentially be a **TRIGGER** so if you're in danger of it, don't read this chapter. I tried to write the panic attack as I had experienced it when I was affected by them. So, again, be careful when reading if you might have residual triggers! Thank you so much !

For the eighth time thank you haha ! Enjoy :)

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_June 9th ; 6:45_

Alex and Mrs. Jones routinely met in a conference room in the main office. It was near the front of the building, and was small. The room was similar to an interrogation room, actually, so it was understandable that, despite how easy the meetings had become, he had to swallow a feeling of misplaced claustrophobia.

Alex entered the room and sat at the chair he usually sat in, clasping his hands and resting them on the table in front of him. Mrs. Jones was always five or ten minutes behind him, so he had time to prepare for any questions. He reviewed the past few months.

He'd earned his unit's trust in groundbreaking time, even Panther, who had previously been skeptical. He was welcome with open arms; a relief, considering other possible outcomes of his being here. He was physically fitter- the obstacle course was easier for him, the aquatic courses were easier for him... He'd even begun to enjoy the runs every morning. Mondays and Fridays were ten kilometers, every other day was five. Alex often found himself near the front of the group, without realizing when he'd gotten there. He wouldn't even think, necessarily. Not like people in television shows and books did. No, he observed.

The way the ground felt beneath his feet, the woods around him, possible hiding places if he were to put himself in a scenario where he was alone on a run. He observed many things and lost himself in his musings, often. It worried Snake, actually. Alex could tell, the way he'd always glance at Alex, as if assuring himself that Alex was still there. Snake would normally be the one shaking his shoulder or calling his name a few times to break him out of his pondering. Nobody else saw it as odd, but for some reason, Alex could tell it bothered Snake.

The door to the room opened noisily, and Mrs. Tulip Jones stepped through. She was wearing black heels and a gray pantsuit, with jewelry hued red. Her lips, painted with dark red gloss, curved politely upwards. "Good morning, Alex."

Alex didn't reply. Just because he felt more comfortable with the occurence didn't mean he was happy about it. The other soldiers had more or less come to terms with his presence here, but it was the meetings with Mrs. Jones that kept him the odd man out. The "special" one. He was the only one meeting with an official. Outside of his unit, he heard rumours- he'd gone from being the politician's son to a possible fugitive sent to Brecon Beacons for disciplinary training. The soldiers accepted this more easily than the rich father gig, but Alex wasn't any more comfortable with it. No, he hated these meetings. How could he be expected to enjoy a meeting with someone who took part in ending his childhood early?

"How are you, Alex?" Mrs. Jones asked, her tone calm and quiet. She had the kind of voice that sounded like a dull hum. It was nice background noise.

"Good."

"How is your performance? Your training?"

"Both good."

"Yes, your file here says that. You've kept up nicely. Built muscle, I assume."

Alex nodded, and Mrs. Jones regarded him with pensive eyes.

"Your health is in excellent shape, I assume?"

"Yeah."

"I see. Good." Mrs. Jones watched him for what felt like a full minute. Her eyes searched his face.

"Tell me, Alex... Do you feel happy?"

Alex blinked, startled. It was an odd question, if put lightly. It was actually very unusual. She usually asked dull questions and accepted dull answers. Alex noticed her eyes trained on his and he quickly got himself together, realizing that she was looking for something.

"Yes."

"What is your- ah, excuse me for the wording... How is your mental health?"

Alex felt a fire light at the pit of his stomach. He fought to put it out. No need to get angry at a simple question. "Healthy." He answered. His tone was clipped.

Mrs. Jones waited a moment, as if expecting more, and nodded. "Okay." She stood and smiled at him. "I'll see you next week, Alex."

Alex watched her leave before getting up and leaving himself. He stood outside the building for a moment before noticing Mrs. Jones standing with her back to him a few meters away, dialing and holding a phone to her ear. She didn't see him, and he quickly ducked behind an alcove in the wall, barely able to hear her.

"Alan." She greeted pleasantly, and Alex felt the familiar furious warmth inside of him. He swallowed. "He's physically pristine, but he doesn't seem to have progressed mentally, yet." She paused. "Yes, his attitude is the same. Yes. I understand. I'll get back to you. Goodbye." There was the click of the end button, and after a moment, Alex heard her walking away.

He stood with his back to the wall, processing the new information. His attitude... his physical condition... mental progression... They were looking at his stability? Physically and mentally?

Alex raised a hand to his eyes and rubbed them lightly, confused. He was fine. In comparison to other teenagers, his physical condition was perfect. And mentality? He was fine, he was okay here, he didn't really mind. He didn't have a chance in high school anymore, and he refused to be the nineteen year old in a sophomore class. Before MI6, he had been in the top ten smartest kids in his year, if not the smartest. His classes had always been breezy and fun, and then the Stormbreaker situation happened, and he plummeted. None of the classes he'd signed up for were counted as credits anymore. He had most definitely failed his freshman year- or would have, if MI6 hadn't stepped in. Blunt had informed him that he wouldn't have to go to school anymore, that he could get an approved tutor, that he could continue his studies alone. He supposed that insignificant promise didn't apply here. An SAS camp was no place for a normal civilian.

"Cub!"

Alex glanced up sharply to see Panther strutting towards him. Alex pushed himself off the wall and headed towards Panther, calming himself down, reminding himself where he was.

"What are you doing?" Panther asked, casting a confused glance at the office.

"M- I was on my way to the mess hall." Alex had recently been lying about the meetings, not mentioning them unless directly asked. He wanted to seem like one of them, and if they could forget the fact that he was short of twenty years younger than most of these men, Alex suspected his relationships would improve greatly. Alex licked his lips. Was that was Jones and Blunt wanted?

"Oh, me too. Walk with me." Panther nodded, setting off without waiting for Alex, who caught up to him.

Panther was a short, built man with tan skin and dark hair. He had the look of a lawyer, or a doctor. His jaw was sharp and his cheekbones rose high. But when he spoke, his general vernacular cast the image of a construction worker or a sandwich maker. Alex had once heard Panther musing about what he would do when he retired from the military, with a few other men. He had been talking about his wife, and her cooking, and how she wanted to make a restaurant. He said he wanted to help when he was finished with his work here. He wanted to start a restaurant with her and his son, who was due to come into the world in autumn.

"So, Cub..." Panther started, pausing to think. Alex waited. "Cub, how old are you?" His tone changed from cautious to curious. Alex suspected that he decided not to ask whatever he was originally planning on asking. Interesting. Notable.

"How old do you think I am?" Alex inquired back.

Panther's mouth twisted in frustration. "I have no bloody clue, kid- shit, none of us do!" Panther sighed heavily. "We don't know anything about you, Cub. You know tons about us. Can't you tell us anything? We're your unit, for christ's sake, at least for a little. And while you're not really a soldier, while you're here, we're responsible for you. So we need to know about you. Understand?"

He wasn't intending to sound as rude as he did, but that didn't make it any easier to hold back a sarcastic retort. "Of course, but I'm not authorized to tell you anything." He paused. "I don't see a problem, though. I'm physically viable and I'm not dead weight when it comes to gun training and simulations." Alex shrugged, and Panther glanced at him in irritation.

"I'm not questioning your abilities, Cub, we've all seen that you aren't dead weight. Far from that. But it would be nice to know who you are, too."

Alex couldn't think of anything to say. He didn't reply.

Sighing, Panther shook his head. "Just think about it, 'right? They may not show it, but the whole unit is just as fed up with not knowing anything about you other than your nickname as I am." When Alex failed to respond, Panther patted him on the shoulder once and said a quiet goodbye.

Alex stopped walking when Panther was nearly out of view. He wasn't hungry, now that he thought about it.

Alex turned and headed towards K-Unit's cabin, an uneasy feeling settling in the pit of his stomach.

_June 9th ; 7:55_

Alex's feet are cold on the ground. Where are his shoes? He looks around; he's in a hallway. It's damp and the walls are rugged rocks, sharp to the touch and slick. The ground is wet and water falls in droplets down the walls. It's dark, and when he looks up, there's no ceiling. He can see the stars and the moon and they're bright but not bright enough. They don't light the way well enough, and Alex slips, falling to his knees. He gets up, wiping his hands on his jeans, and starts forward, walking down the hallway. His eyes are trained on the moon. Where is he? How did he get here? He looks down at the hallway. His path has become more narrow, the rocks are pressing up against his arms. He didn't even notice; they're digging into his skin, breaking flesh. Blood drips down his arms to his hands to his fingers and onto the ground. It mingles with the water and Alex can't tell the difference. He's trapped and he turns around and around but he isn't sure which way he came and the hallway is so narrow- he can't breathe. He's lost his state of mind, he can't figure anything out. His knees give out and before they can hit the concrete he's falling. He tries to grab onto something, but his fingers find rocks and the rocks cut into his skin and he cries out, somebody help, _please_, someone-

Alex jerked upwards, a shout dying on his lips. He was sweating and coughing and when he raised his hands to rub his eyes, they met wet cheeks and falling tears. He was crying.

Alex swung his legs over the side of the bed, rubbing at his face, hyperventilating. He couldn't _breathe_, he couldn't _see_. He couldn't stop crying, for fuck's sake, Alex, stop the goddamn _crying_.

Alex stood to go to the sink and wash his face when his legs gave and he fell to the cabin floor, still breathing erratically. He coughed and heard himself sob and gasp like a man desperate for air. He crawled forward until his hands met the wall and he sat against it, pulling his knees to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. His head fell onto his knees and he tried to control his breathing. He was trapped, he was going to die, he was going to die, he was _dead-_

"Hey!"

He started, gasping and whining like a startled dog. There were noises, muffled and distant, and Alex realized he couldn't feel his hands, and his head swam and he was so dizzy-

"Cub."

Cub? What... Who?

"Cub, listen to me, okay? Can you do that?"

Listen... Yeah, he could try. Alex nodded, still sucking in air. His face was hot and wet and when he brought his hands up to rub his eyes he nearly vomited.

"Cub, you're having a panic attack. Whatever you're feeling is real. You're not hallucinating, you're experiencing this, but I need you to let me help you get through it."

What he was feeling? Unadulterated fear, mindless frenzy. He was dying, he couldn't breathe. It was real? Help. He needed _help_. He tried to say okay, but it came out as a wheeze, and he tried apologizing, but they came out in similar states. It didn't matter, the voice was back. Alex tried to focus.

"First; breathe. Cub, you have to breathe, okay? Can you breathe with me? Let's count to ten, taking breaths. One..." Breath. "Two..." Breath. "Three..." Breath. "Four..."

Ten came in hours and Alex was beginning to see straight, and there were people standing near him, but not crowding him. His throat still felt constricted, but it was becoming easier. He sucked in a breath, and the voices cautioned him from going too fast.

"You're doing great." Said the Voice. Alex breathed. "Cub, can you tell me why you're feeling this way?"

"I-" Alex gasped, and the voice told him to take his time. He breathed heavily for an unknown amount of time before continuing. "A dream?"

"A bad dream?"

"Ye... yeah."

"Okay, I understand." The voice was gentle. Alex felt secure. "Do I have your permission to touch you? I'm going to lift you off the floor, okay?"

A hand touched his shoulder and he jerked, gasping, heaving.

"I shouldn't have done that, I won't do that again," assured the voice. "It's okay, tell me when you're ready. Or if you want to move at all. We'll do this your way."

Alex licked his lips, his hands moving about his face, his fingers running through his hair. "Do it."

A hand slowly placed itself under his left elbow, and then another under his right elbow. The fingers tightened carefully, and lifted Alex off the ground. The hands guided him to the bed he had been lying on before, and let go once he was sitting. He felt someone sit next to him. Away from him, the voice ordered something softly, and after a moment, there were footsteps. Alex couldn't let his mind stray from breathing, couldn't let himself look around at the people in the room. He had to breathe.

"Okay, Cub, you're okay."

Alex nodded, inhaling through his nose, exhaling from his mouth. He was okay.

After what felt like hours, Alex's vision sharpened, and his thoughts became clear. He rubbed his hands on his pants and looked at the person next to him. Snake sat, looking patiently at Alex, smiling encouragingly when their eyes met.

Alex swallowed. Had he said anything? Shit. "Snake... what...?"

"You had an anxiety attack." Seeing his look of confusion, Snake remedied, "A panic attack. Very common. Are you feeling alright?"

"Yeah- I'm fine." Alex said, possibly too quickly for Snake's liking. The man frowned.

"I said it was common -and it is- but this panic attack was... violent. It was more _intense_ than the common panick attack. Has this ever happened before?"

Alex didn't answer, gnawing at his lip. He didn't think so. Would he remember?

"_Cub_," Snake said sternly, taking his silence as resistance, "I'm the unit's medic. You need to tell me this kind of thing in order for me to be sure of your safety. Has this happened before?"

"I- no, I don't think so."

Snake nodded. "Okay. I'm not sure if you remember, but you mentioned a dream triggering you. Do you remember the dream?"

Alex didn't remember much of anything before being sat on the bed by -presumably- Snake. He shook his head. Snake sighed.

"I was afraid of that. We don't know what caused it exactly." Snake studied Alex for a moment. "Do you have nightmares, Cub?"

Alex glanced at Snake, and Snake must've seen something in his eyes, because he began to speak. Before he could, Alex snapped, "No."

"Are you _sure_? I can't stress how important it is that you tell me the truth." Snake pressed, eyes intense and serious.

"I do not have nightmares." Alex repeated firmly, not releasing his eye contact with Snake. After a moment, Snake begrudgingly accepted his answer.

"Alright, I'm trusting you here, Cub." Snake said, tone almost lecturing. After another serious stare down, he stood, seemingly satisfied. "We came to get you because the Sergeant wants to see us about a mission, of sorts." Snake helped Alex stand, and Alex frowned.

"He said he wanted me there?" Blunt had been specific when he'd said he didn't want Alex's identity compromised. Wasn't this going to throw all that work away?

"He did." Snake said, looking hesitant. Sending a teenager into the field was probably striking a bad chord in Snake.

His hesitation reminded Alex that not all adults were Alan Blunt. He often forgot.


	5. An Ignorant Soldier

_June 10th ; 8:00_

Mrs. Tulip Jones was a woman of complicated sophistication.

Her instincts had never been wrong, but often, she didn't voice her opinions. Her opinions were often on mark, but she didn't suggest a course of action. That was Mr. Alan Blunt's job, and she was satisfied with his decision-making skills. Quite.

Except for in the situation of one Alex Rider. From the beginning, she'd been dubious. From the very start, when Alan had him brought into the bank and watched with a gaze that made Mrs. Jones herself shudder, she'd been hesitant, to say the least. When Alex had first launched himself from one thin balcony to the other, many stories up above the city, Mrs. Jones had wanted to call it off. Mr. Blunt, however, had different ideas. He watched the tape of Alex considering the jump and executing it perfectly, his gaze void of concern. Mr. Blunt had the idea long before Ian Rider was killed, actually. Ian Rider often spoke of one talented nephew, and when Mr. Blunt began digging into Alex Rider's information, he became more and more curious. Mrs. Jones watched Mr. Blunt's thought process go from thoughtful to tactical in a single day, and from the moment he told her his plan to assign the mission to Alex, she had nearly protested. But she saw his potential, too. She saw his ability. She saw the way he measured the distance between the balconies, saw the way he measured the risk against the reward. He was visually skilled, and hadn't even recognized his own potential.

Maybe that's all it came down to, the reason she went with such a distasteful act of abuse of power. She wanted Alex to recognize his own ability. She wanted to see this talented human being become great. She had envisioned, she supposed, an international MI6 spy with discipline and skill beyond his years. It had been unrealistic, she now knew. She often found herself regretting ever getting involved. But emotions such as regret and unease had no place in her business; she closed them away.

Mrs. Jones had requested to see Alex and his unit for a specific reason. Mr. Blunt had spoken to her before she made her way up to the military base, privately. He'd informed her of a situation in Bangkok. Recently, a couple of their informants in Thailand had reported odd activity, ranging from illegal drug use and trade, gang fights, and possible human trafficking in the lower region of Bangkok; specifically, near Yan Nawa. Recently, Mrs. Jones had heard that the suspect had moved. To the French Alps, if memory served. When Mr. Blunt gave them orders to look deeper into it, a familiar name had come up in one of the reports. Mrs. Jones recalled the way Mr. Blunt's eyes scanned the page over and over, then stared through it, lost in thought. He'd been silent for a good ten minutes before telling her that it was time for them to put Alex to the test.

She herself wasn't quite sure what that meant... "Put Alex to the test." She'd been aware that her boss had been looking for something over the past few months. Every time she came back with Alex's answers written in private documents in her laptop, Mr. Blunt was eager to take a look. Her best bet was that he was looking for something. Looking for something new or old, that she couldn't tell.

The K-Unit entered the room one by one, Alex at the back. They were in the same room Ms. Jones would meet Alex in every week. It showed; Alex sat at one of the chairs in the middle, looking straight at Ms. Jones, observing. He was calm, orderly, and ready for whatever information she had to deliver. His expression remained blasé.

The rest of his unit was a different story. Each man had varying looks of unease. Soldiers like them likely haven't ever been in these rooms; blank walls, only occupied by a table and a set of chairs. Ms. Jones' patient stance and sharp expression might not have helped much, either. They sat at the chairs and waited.

"Good morning, gentlemen." Ms. Jones greeted pleasantly. She stood, demanding attention, and slid a folder forward, in front of Alex. He held her gaze until it reached his finger tips. "I've recently received clearance by the SAS to send you five on a scouting mission. We've had some trouble with the area ourselves, so we're relying on you to improve our situation."

"'We'?" Wolf repeated, voice gruff. He didn't trust agents, she could tell. She saw it in the way that his eyes followed her every movement.

"Apologies; we being MI6, Military Intelligence."

"Why are you sending a group of SAS soldiers to do your work?" Alex asked, his voice curt. He didn't look up at her until she answered. His eyes were filled with emotions, while his general expression stayed blank. Ms. Jones internally sighed.

"Our group of informants in the region we're sending you to have had difficulties edging around and infiltrating the operation. We've deemed the situation too dangerous for the few of them to handle. In all honesty," she glanced around at each of the soldiers, seemingly sincere, "you might be our last hope." She smiled and gestured to the folder. "All the necessary information is in that folder. You depart in three days. We're counting on you." With a small wave and quiet goodbye, she was gone.

Ms. Jones made her way to the waiting, black vehicle, sliding in and dialing the familiar number.

"Inform Mr. Blunt that the information has been passed on to the necessary recipients. I'll keep him updated. Thank you."

She snapped her phone closed, and when the window between the driver and herself slid up, she rubbed her eyes, hoping that her boss knew what he was doing.

_June 10th ; 8:15_

Alex watched Ms. Jones leave with narrowed eyes and tight lips. She was sending him on another mission... and putting the rest of the unit at stake, too? He could probably convince himself that they really did need the extra man power if he hadn't been as experienced with Jones' skills with manipulation. 'You might be our last hope,' his ass. She'd looked anywhere but Alex during the last part of her finely sculpted speech, and one look at his unit told him that they'd fallen prey to her pretty words. Granted, it'd be hard not to if you weren't used to it.

"Alright, men," Wolf said, standing. The rest of the unit followed suit, Alex still gripping the folder. "Don't overexert yourselves these next few days. We have to be in top physical condition for this." One glance at his unit's faces told him all he needed to know, and he turned, and left. Eagle and Snake followed behind quickly with Panther lagging a bit. Alex hadn't moved.

Flipping open the folder, Alex made his way to the unit cabin. They were excused from any training, but Wolf had made it clear while they walked back that he expected them to run the next two mornings anyway. By the time they got to the cabin, Alex had skimmed through the information.

"Cub, give it here," Wolf held out a hand expectantly.  
Alex handed Wolf the file, and he leaned against the wall. He skimmed it as Alex had done, and started over, reading aloud.

"Jerome Argent. 32 years old; French; Caucasian. Definite offenses are human trafficking, drug trade. Homicide as a likely offense." Wolf squinted. "Believed to be the leader of act us..."

"_Actus reus_," offered Alex. "Latin. It means 'wrongful act'." Wolf grunted.

"_Actus reus_, then. Odd name for a criminal to adopt, innit? Redundant. He's got a bunker in Valberg. France, that is. Says here he used to be in Bangkok until..." Wolf frowned. "Until recent troubles?" He stayed silent for a moment, thinking hard, before continuing. "He's in Valberg. He's got a bunker near the town, in the Alps."

"What's the objective?" Snake asked from his spot near the door.

"Objective is to find and neutralize the target. Says it doesn't matter what state he's in, dead or alive. We do it how we want. As long as no one but the people involved in his operation are injured or killed, it'll be classified as a success." Wolf nodded. He looked satisfied.

"Weird, though, yeah?" Panther broke the small silence.

"What is?" Snake questioned.

"The entire thing. A couple SAS soldiers to execute a covert operation." Panther specified, looking pensive. "Why send us in? Why not a couple of agents? If they needed the man power so much, take one of us, but a whole team?"

"She said they'd tried basically everything, though." Eagle chimed in, shrugging. "Last resort, remember?"

"Bullshit," Panther shook his head. "We're not trained in this sort of thing. For sneaking around and covering up tracks. We'll do no better than a group of agents thoroughly trained in espionage. C'mon, you don't think it's... weird?"

Alex had to admit that he was impressed with Panther's ability to see past Mrs. Jones' attempt to hero worship them. "I agree." Alex said, hoping to delay the mission. He didn't want these men to do what he had become used to doing. If they had wanted, MI6 could have just excused him from the camp for a week or two. Some excuse about his education, or visiting family. Something. Instead, they chose to put Alex in a group of soldiers and tell them to play spy. It wasn't right, putting lives like theirs in danger. To do what? Prove a point? "We're soldiers, not spies."

A thick silence followed closely behind.

"Cub," Wolf pushed off the wall. "You're not coming."

Alex stared at him incredulously. He took in his unit's expressions and realized they all thought the same. Why did they think Alex had just been specifically told to sit in? "Yes, I am." Alex replied calmly. "That's been made clear."

"No, it hasn't," Wolf insisted, eyebrows furrowing in irritation. "Nothing's been made clear about you coming with us to _confront_ a _murderer_ in _France_. You're staying here. Or wherever they put you."

Alex felt himself growing increasingly frustrated. "Wolf, I'm going. Why else was I to attend the meeting with you? If I had been meant to stay here, they'd not have told me anything." Alex reasoned.

Unconvinced, Wolf growled. "You aren't coming."

"I am." Alex retorted defiantly.

"Why don't we ask the Sergeant, if you're so inclined to be proven wrong?" Wolf bit out, and left before Alex could protest. Alex hadn't planned on protesting, anyway.

_June 10th ; 9:00_

Alex wouldn't go into detail if he were asked to explain the confrontation, but he could summarize it. It began with Wolf growling, per usual, and expecting to be proven right. The Sergeant had looked between them and closed his eyes. He'd said that Alex was to accompany them, as he was a valuable asset. No doubt, M16 had predicted the issue would arise. It all felt to scripted to be the man himself. To put it simply, Wolf wasn't happy. He stormed out of the office, spitting curses, and Alex almost followed suit, before the Sergeant grunted his name.

Alex glanced at the man and stepped back in front of his desk, eyes curious. "Sir?"

"Rider," the man sighed, "I'm going to be frank with you, kid. Your unit doesn't know who you are. If you weren't under the strict orders from M16 to keep quiet about your identity, I'd have made you tell them months ago. I don't like it. An ignorant soldier is a dead soldier." The man stared at him hard. His eyes were gray. His mouth was a thin line. "Understand?"

Alex swallowed and nodded. He did. He understood perfectly. "Will that be all?"

"Yes. Dismissed." The Sergeant waved his hand. Alex thought to himself that he'd like being a soldier more than he liked being a spy. The simplicity of the dismissal was refreshing.

When he returned to the cabin, Wolf wasn't there. None of them were, he'd thought, until Panther ambled out of the bathroom.

"Cub." He said, surprised. After a moment, his expression settled back into one of uninterested inquiry. "Snake and Eagle went to get breakfast, since we missed it."

Alex nodded. "I'll get some, too." He turned to leave when Panther called out to him.

"I have to ask you something, first."

Alex eyed Panther skeptically. "I probably won't answer."

"I'm asking anyway." Panther leaned against the bed next to Alex. "Are you capable of completing a mission like this?" Panther paused and specified, "Do you think you're on par with a couple of soldiers that have been training for longer than you have?"

Alex stared at him. _An ignorant soldier is a dead soldier_. "Yes."

Panther looked surprised that he'd answered at all. After a moment, he nodded, seemingly satisfied. "Okay. One more question."

Alex nodded. He supposed they'd held off their questions long enough, and with only Panther here, who had been curious since the start, Alex couldn't do much harm, could he?

"Have you done things like this before?"

Alex's lips tightened, non speaking.

"Cub," Panther urged, looking frustrated.

"That's not information I'm allowed to disclose." He turned to leave when Panther grabbed his arm. From there, everything spun out of focus.

He wasn't sure what he was doing, honestly. Looking back, he wasn't even sure it was him. His leg came up and his foot struck Panther's jaw. His body spun, and he tugged Panther's arm behind him, pulling hard. There was a pop. Alex dropped Panther's arm with a breathless gasp. "_Shit_."

Panther stumbled toward a bed, sitting in a defensive posture. Seeing Alex's equally stunned expression, he lowered his guard a bit. He stared at Alex until the boy looked away.

"I didn't _mean_ to." Alex sounded desperate, even to himself. "I'm- I didn't..."

"I'm fine, Cub. Just... what the hell was that?" He saw guilt in Alex's eyes and quickly amended. "No, but- I'm fine," Panther assured, and a moment later, he stood. The man walked to the door and put his hand on the frame. He didn't move for a while. Not until he heard Alex sit on one of the beds. Alex had his head in his hands, and he didn't look up when Panther spoke. "I guess I got my answer."


	6. Familiar Mug

I hope this chapter is satisfying! thanks for reading, as always :)

* * *

_June 13th ; 6:00_

They'd been in the covered vehicle for approximately four hours. It felt like twenty.

Their plane had been a small carrier, and they'd been dropped in the woods, a few miles from the car that would take them into the compound. The walk and the flight had been bearable, with Eagle and Wolf trading good-natured quips, Snake intervening when necessary, and Panther laughing at all the right times.

Panther hadn't looked Alex directly in the eye since the confrontation in the cabin. They'd spoken, but it'd been small chat. _Ready for the mission, Cub? Nice weather for a mission, eh? I'm sore everywhere- what about you?_ It was all polite chatter, and Alex supposed he couldn't really blame Panther for trying and failing. The conversations always died off after about two exchanges. That was mostly Alex's fault, though. He used to be at ease with conversing with another human being. It used to be easy. But it'd gotten harder after the majority of his friends had distanced themselves; he barely spoke to anybody these days. He wouldn't count talking to Blunt or Jones as conversing, necessarily. And yeah, he talked to the K-Unit, but they did all the work. Panther never really spoke during their group conversations unless it was significant. The point was that Alex's social skills had _somewhat_ deteriorated.

The drive was five hours in total, so they were on the last stretch- the part that mattered. The part that could get them all killed. Well, Alex thought, the entire mission could get us all killed.

The car passed from dirt onto pavement. Alex didn't dare open a curtain and look out, but he was fairly sure they were in the small mountain town, and would soon be approaching the entrance. As cliché as it sounds, each member of the unit was to shove themselves in their assigned box. They were at the front, near the driver, while the actual supplies (foods, clothes, medical supplies) being transferred were at the back. The boxes were just large enough for them to squeeze into.

The truck moved forward slowly, and crept to a stop after about twenty minutes on the pavement. There were dull voices, and a knock came from the front of the car. The signal.

Alex lifted his box's lid and curled into it. He didn't look at the rest of his unit as he closed the lid- he could only hope they were capable of not making a mistake.

Alex hated these situations. He was blind. The box was dark and his breathing was silent. When he held his breath, he could only slightly hear the breathing of the others, and that was only because he was aware of it.

The tarp over the bed of the truck rustled, and a voice listed something off in french. Alex couldn't catch many of the words. A different voice asked something, and after a response, the tarp rustled again. Silence. Tension.

The car moved forward, and another knock came. Alex slowly lifted the lid of his box, and climbed out silently as possible. The others did the same. The car rolled into motion again; instead of going higher, the truck was angled down at the hood. They were going underground.

They stayed in the car for another half hour. None of them spoke; Alex preferred it that way.

Their instructions were simple, really. The bunker was inside of the alps, wedged into the side of a small valley and hidden inside heavy woods. It was hard to breach quietly- the only way in without being inconspicuous was the single dirt road that led up the mountain and into the valley. The only other way would be from the air- a helicopter was too loud, and a small plane was too noticeable. Parachuting had been out of the question, with the thick woods easily in the way. Though it may have been the most dangerous of all of them, the vehicle route was the only way to go.

If entering the facility was successful, they would end up in the storage area. Only a few guards were expected to be on duty here. It wouldn't be a problem to take them out quickly and quietly. Past the storage room they would have to navigate using a small map of the facility to find their way around. It had been supplied by an informant that had gotten just far enough to obtain the most information and returned it to MI6, only to go missing from his flat three weeks later- but he'd gotten MI6 the information, and that's all that had mattered. Alex's unit was to find the room on the map named Dux Ducis. Supposedly, that's where one Jerome Argent worked from. It made sense, seeing as the room was in the middle of the facility.

It wouldn't be easy. There were many hallways and many more rooms; one mistake could cost them gravely.

The car pulled to a stop. Muffled voices spoke outside of the car, and Wolf held up a hand, his fingers curling in a signal. Get ready.

The tarp was lifted and they wasted no time. There were two men lifting the tarp, and two more waiting behind them. Caught by surprise, the two men in front were easily taken down by Wolf and Snake. Panther and Eagle quickly got to work on the last two. They finished it off easily.

Alex slid out of the truck. He looked around at the storage room, observant. It was large- as large as you'd expect from a warehouse. Boxes were stacked neatly, and other than the four guards, there were no other noticeable threats. Alex glanced up at the ceiling.

There were two security cameras- both facing into the warehouse from the door they'd entered in. The truck served as cover from the camera's sight. Alex lifted one of the men and pushed him into the bed of the truck; Eagle, Snake, and Panther quickly followed suit.

"Two cameras, top corners of the back of the room," Alex breathed to Wolf.

"Snake, take 'em out."

Snake raised his gun and shot the two cameras with impressive accuracy.

They'd have to move quickly- it wouldn't be long before the surveillance room noticed, if they hadn't already.

The plan was as follows: one person would scout ahead, a the rest would follow behind slowly. Alex had been chosen to be the scout (Wolf, Snake, and Eagle had been adamant about it, but Panther, who had originally offered the idea, insisted that Alex was capable enough; thankfully, the conversation ended there) and he was fine with such a job.

He crept back into his comfort level as he jogged to the one doorway, standing beside it and pushing it open quietly. The rest of the unit waited behind a stack of clothing boxes, alert.

The hallway was empty. Alex moved forward. There were four doors (two on either side) in total, and Alex signaled the unit forward.

"The map," Alex whispered, "I need the map."

Panther pulled it out of his pocket and unfolded it quickly, gesturing to where they were. The further one on the left would take them to their destination. Alex took a moment to thoroughly examine the directions, making note of them in his mind. Furthest door on the left, then first on the right, and so on.

Alex pointed it out and started towards it. The door opened with ease.

Alex found himself in another empty hallway. His unit followed suit and Panther grinned.

"Not too tight on their security, eh?"

A heavy feeling sank in Alex's gut. They went through the next door, and realization replaced skepticism.

The room was large and resembled a doctor's office. Glass cabinets lined the walls, holding various medical paraphernalia.

"Trap," Alex managed, a familiar panicked paranoia setting in. "It's a _trap-_ we have to-"

Multiple gunshots rang throughout the room, and Alex watched as each SAS soldier jerked in pain. They'd been shot in the foot, and when they turned to react, they were struck in the head and crumpled to the ground. A group of rugged, menacing men stood at the door, blocking any chance of escape. Before Alex could properly think of a plan, a bullet whisked past his head, skimming his cheek. His ears rang and he stumbled to the side, gasping. He grabbed onto a counter, trying to calm his breathing, trying to assure himself that nothing permanently damaging had just taken place.

"Now, ain't _that_ a familiar mug," A voice murmured. Fingers grabbed his chin and turned his face to the side. A dark skinned, dark haired, dark eyed man stared down at him. His lip curled up into a smile, and his hands fell upon Alex's shoulders. For a moment, they pressed down on him, and in a matter of seconds, the man pulled Alex's chest down to meet his knee. Pain exploded in his chest, and everything was gone.

_June 13th ; 13:27_

A guttural cough pulled Alex from unconsciousness.

His chest heaved. He rolled onto his side, coughing up thick saliva. He forced his eyes open and realized that the saliva was blood. The room was dark, but the liquid on the ground was darker. He tasted blood in his mouth, and turned to the side to spit it out.

With a bit of difficulty, he pushed himself into a sitting position. He was in a cell, about seven feet wide and ten feet long. The door was the kind you'd see in a typical prison- bars.

Across from him was a cell- he could make out the insides of the two cells across from him. In the one diagonal from him, Eagle leaned his back against the bars. Alex would've thought he'd fallen asleep standing if it hadn't been for his fingers curling and uncurling against the bars.

Directly across from him, Wolf was sitting against the wall, a scowl etched onto his face. He looked downright wrecked- a bruise on his forehead, and a few cuts scattered across his face. He looked fine physically otherwise- no obvious critical injuries. The man's fists curled, and his jaw tightened.

He turned to Alex abruptly, and at the sight of Alex awake and alive, he seemed to deflate. "_Cub_," he breathed, and his head fell back against the wall. "You brat, you're alive, thank god."

Alex nodded. "You're all alive, too, right?"

Wolf nodded. "Seems so."

"Eh, Cub! You're awake, finally!" Eagle whipped around, grinning. His actions exhaled relief. "Was beginning to think you'd bitten dust."

"Not yet," Alex replied. "You're all uninjured?"

"Relatively," Snake's voice answered from the cell next to his. "Nothing serious." There was a brief pause. "_Christ_, Cub, I'm so glad you're not dead."

Alex didn't reply, mostly due to grim gratefulness. He could very well be dead right now. He wondered why he wasn't.

"What about Panther?" He asked.

"Here," A quiet voice answered. He sounded exhausted.

"He's heavily concussed," Snake explained, sounding desperate and useless. It mustn't be comfortable, being the medic and having to ensure your unit's safety without actually being able to physically examine them. "We can't let him sleep, but..." The unspoken though hung in the air. We can't stop him if he does.

"I'll be fine," Panther answered, "I'm not stupid. I won't sleep, so quit your worrying, Snake." He didn't say it unkindly.

Snake sighed. "I know you will, mate. I just-" he sighed heavily. "I hate not being able to _do_ anything."

"We're not trained for this." Even Eagle seemed hopeless. "We aren't used to this, or armed for this."

"We'll be fine," Wolf firmly retorted. His voice was sharp. "You're all going to be fine. Letting you die is the last thing I'm gonna let happen."

Nobody replied. Alex couldn't tell if they believed him or not. He couldn't tell if _he_ believed him or not.


	7. Blind

Thanks for waiting! This one took _so_ long, I can't stress it enough. I couldn't get some of the sentences right! I hope you enjoy this chapter. :) Notes for language translation or information specification are at the bottom. Reviews are always appreciated!

* * *

_June 13th ; 14:03_

Alex wasn't claustrophobic, but eventual discomfort and unease made his cell synonymous to a straight jacket.

The walls were dark and concrete, and wet in some places. The door didn't budge. The room was void of furniture- completely bare. Prison cells had beds, at the very least, Alex thought bitterly. His back was pressed against the driest part of the back wall. His paranoia had pushed him back, per usual. The slight feeling of closure was enough to keep the panic at bay.

Wolf, whose cell sat opposite of Alex's, had taken to pacing. He'd been at it for a while, and showed no signs of stopping. He didn't look afraid or jittery. Only paranoid and nervous, with a hint of skepticism. He'd been through this before, however; the unit had gone through RTI a few times before. While Alex was at the training camp with them, they'd done it twice. Alex, however, hadn't participated; Ms. Jones and Blunt had figured his experience covered RTI training quite well. Alex lolled his head against the wall. He probably should have been angrier about that than he was.

Snake had occupied himself with talking to Panther. Not about anything relevant, as far as Alex could tell. They couldn't afford to talk about things that mattered and may have mentally stimulated him more, but hey. You work with what you have. Because, in this business, when you speak about things that matter, they become things that mattered.

Currently, Snake was having Panther recite all of the existing languages he could think of. He'd flown through Europe, North America, and South America. He was tackling Africa.

"Arabic, Somali, Berber… Amharic… Oromo, Swahili, Hausa, Igbo…" A groan rumbled from across he prison, followed by an amused grunt, courtesy of Eagle. "Fuck, what was that last one… Yoru-something?"

"Yoruba," Snake supplied helpfully.

"Yeah, that's the one."

"So that's- what, nine down?" Eagle chirped, sounding amused. "It's a good thing Africa only has a couple hundred."

Panther cursed.

Footsteps echoed through the hallway outside, and Wolf froze in his tracks. He angled his body towards the door. Alex stood, pressed against the back wall. He edged towards the corner a few inches.

The shuffling outside the cell lasted for about five excruciating minutes before the door swung open. A grinning Jerome Argent sauntered in, two lackeys flanking him. The one on the right was the man that Alex had seen before, and on the left was a woman, tall and intimidating. Her jaw was strong and her head was shaved. She had a tribal tattoo on the right side of her skull. Alex wasn't sure what it meant. She was built like an Olympian, all muscles and strength. Her dark eyes met Alex's, and he got the odd sensation that he was being peered into.

Alex tore his gaze away from her.

"You know…" Jerome beckoned the room's attention. His voice was deep and confident. He stood proudly, completely comfortable in the thick tension. His French accent gave his words a threatening lull. "If you'd have informed me ahead of time, I could have provided you with decent quarters. I like my guests to be treated to luxury." The mocking glint in his eyes didn't go unnoticed.

When he was greeted with silence, Jerome sighed. His eyes glanced over every member of the unit before landing on Alex.

"Oh," He looked genuinely surprised. His expression melted into delighted satisfaction. "_Oh_. Alex Rider, isn't it? It's a pleasure, _really_, I've heard so much about you." He strode over to Alex's cell, reaching his hands out to touch the bars. "Why don't you come a bit closer? I only want to greet you. It's not every day you meet an enigma."

"I'm fine where I am, thank you," snapped Alex.

"Oh, _Alex_- may I call you Alex? It's a bit familiar, but-"

"What are you getting at, Argent?" Wolf growled. He was clenching the bars, his eyes alight with fury. "The kid's not important, here. I don't know what you mean by enigma, but I'm the leader of this unit. You'll speak to me."

For a moment, a look of thunderous anger adorned Jerome's face. His eyes went stormy, and his mouth set into a thin line. Alex resisted the urge to shudder. He was surprised he'd had the urge at all.

And as quickly as it came, it was gone, with Jerome spinning on Wolf, nodding. "Of course, of course. Where are my manners? And you are…?"

"Wolf. What do you want with my unit, Argent?"

Alex sighed. He was going about this all wrong. This wouldn't get them anywhere.

The woman cast a glance at Alex. "You work for MI6, yes?" She inquired, interrupting the conversation. Her Russian accent was steely.

Alex stared at her for a moment in surprise. He shook his head.

"You are a liar." She mused. Thankfully, she didn't look irritated. Alex had the distinct feeling that crossing her was something he should avoid.

There was a moment of brief silence. Jerome glanced between the woman and Alex, and Alex kept his gaze solidly on the ground. Jerome clapped his hands together, suddenly, breaking the tension. "In any case, you lot have wedged yourself into a tight spot. You're in a bit of trouble; which shouldn't be a surprise. You broke into my home and place of business, and injured my employees without even giving me a call, after all." Jerome smiled. "In short, we'll be enjoying each other's company from now on. I'd like to get acquainted, one by one. Starting…" His eyes slid over to Alex, and he thought of a serpent, "with this dear boy." The woman and man moved forward and unlocked the cage, grabbing Alex by the arms before he could move and pulling him out. Once outside of his cell, rough rope was tied around his arms, as high as possible without dislocating them. She held his wrists as she pushed him out of the room. The man followed next to them, fiddling with a gun idly while his eyes stayed firmly locked on Alex.

"I'm looking forward to this," Jerome admitted. He sounded sheepish. "You lot will stay until we're finished. Don't worry; you're all next. Be patient with us."

Jerome turned and left, and Alex was shoved close behind. Wolf shouted after them.

"If you hurt that boy, Argent, I'll-" His enraged road was muffled by the metal door slamming shut. After a moment of quiet shouts, everything was still. Everything was quiet.

_June 13th ; 14:13_

"So, Alex," Jerome began, "how are you?"

The entire situation was becoming unbearably frustrating, honestly. Being treated like a house guest in binds. Being carted along at the will of the exact criminal he'd been sent to retrieve. His frustration boiled. "I'm not sure what you expect me to say, Argent. I'm not planning on becoming buddy-buddy with a murderer." Alex replied curtly. The grip on his wrists tightened.

Jerome laughed, waving it off. "_Spitfire_! Wonderful; it gets awfully dull around here, I'm glad someone has a sense of sarcasm and wit. You, my boy, are a godsend to this drab business." They walked a bit more before Jerome spoke again. "In a moment, here, you're going to meet the good doctor. She's quite lovely."

They approached a doorway and entered into a blindingly white room. The fluorescent lights were painfully bright and the light floors and walls didn't help. His eyes adjusted after a good, long moment.

"Jerome," A low voice acknowledged. "To what do I owe the pleasure?"

"Angela," Jerome crooned, leaning forward to kiss a woman on both cheeks. "I've brought you a treat."

Angela's eyes brightened, and she looked at Alex as if seeing him for the first time. She took him in greedily. Alex felt dissected.

She had dark hair and dark eyes, but her skin was incredibly pale. Her hair was pulled into a bun at the top of her head, and her lips were colored red. "Who might this be?" She asked, her voice thick with interest.

"This is Alex Rider," Jerome gestured, and the grip on his wrists disappeared. "He visited us today. I thought you'd enjoy to meet him, as he'll be staying with us from now on."

"Very much so," She replied, moving forward. Her hand reached up and her manicured nails dragged along his face, pushing at his cheeks and turning his head from side to side. "This is him, then. Incredible." She had a thick French accent, like Jerome. "I want him for two hours." She nodded to herself. Jerome smiled.

"I'll leave him with you, then, yes?"

Angela hummed in approval, grabbing Alex by his shoulders and pushing him into a chair to the side of the room. She looked eager. Alex didn't struggle; he wouldn't have made it anywhere. Not with the two lackeys at the door, and all of the medical equipment that could easily be used against him. Not with the K-Unit still back in the cells. He needed a better plan.

Angela leaned down and strapped him into the chair. It happened so quickly that Alex couldn't move, and he jerked, surprised. "I want Mathias here with me." Angela announced after a moment of pondering. "This boy is dangerous. To take a chance is to die."

Alex tugged on his restraints. There wasn't any leeway.

"Of course, of course," Jerome nodded. "We'll be off, then. I'll see you in a bit, Alex." Jerome waved once and strode out the door. The woman followed him out.

Mathias shut the door behind them, locking it. He glanced at Alex, and his lips curled. He showed teeth.

Angela's hands were moving instantly, dragging through Alex's hair and pushing his head forward. There was a quiet drag of metal on the counter before pain pinched his neck. He winced, jerking his head to the side.

"Stay still," She ordered sharply, and pushed his head back down. He felt the pain again, and after a moment, his body grew heavy. They'd drugged him, no doubt. "I've met a few spies in my lifetime. Every one of them has been somewhat callous, somewhat rough around the edges. But _you_…" She knelt in front of him, her hands flitting down his sides and pressing into his stomach. "You're entirely different. So… psychologically clean. So _fresh_." Her voice held excitement and Alex felt his fingers tingling until he couldn't feel them anymore. Angela reached around him and pulled another strap across his chest, tightening it until Alex cried out. She hadn't thought anything of it, thank god, but Alex could feel his bullet wound burning. "Jerome has brought me something wonderful." Her voice was sing-song as she straightened up, her hands stroking his hair and cupping his face. "Don't worry, you won't feel anything. Not until the serum wears off. But by then, I'll have mostly finished. It shouldn't be an issue."

Alex's neck grew heavy as lead, and without his permission, his head slumped forward. Panic choked him. This was bad. He was in trouble. Physically immobile and in the grasp of the enemy. The undoubtedly mentally unstable enemy.

Alex saw Angela's fingers pressing against his arm out of the corner of his eye, over and over until finger-shaped bruises appeared. He hadn't felt it. If his eyes had been closed, he wouldn't have noticed. She hummed happily and leaned over him to grab something on the counter.

"Alright, Alex, we're going to start with something simple," Angela said conversationally. "You see, I'm _endlessly_ curious about you." Her fingers found his hair, again. She ruffled and smoothed it over. "Your physique…" Her fingers flitted down his face, stroking his jaw. "Your mind…" Her fingers pressed into his neck. Angela smiled, looking satisfied, and Alex suspected a bruise had formed. "_You_. You're so… curious. A teenage boy… thrown into situations that should've left you mentally incapacitated and physically deficient. They shoulder broken your fragile, school-boy heart." Her eyes searched his face intently. "But they didn't."

She turned and flicked her hand at Mathias, who seemed to understand and left the room. "In any case, I'm dying to get my hands on you and test your limits a bit. So, we begin."

Mathias returned with a case, and laid it out on the counter for Angela. "We're going to start with sensory deprivation. Isolation, if you will."

She played with her new toys for a moment before turning back to Alex. "Have you ever heard of Jose Padilla, Alex?"

Alex didn't reply. He wondered if he should try, to see if he even could.

"Jose Padilla was a threat to the United States' security. He was believed to be an informant, a _traitor_. The entire case is long and complex, but the point is that Jose was considered a national menace. Because of this, in more case than one, he was subjected to a few types of isolation. Sensory deprivation and sleep deprivation being the most popular." Angela's fingers found Alex's temples, and she rubbed, trying to soothe. If he'd have been able to feel, it might have worked. "He was made to wear headgear that robbed him of sight, at one point, when he was transferred from the prison to the dentist." Angela released him to grab something on the counter, and when she dangled it in front of him, his stomach went icy. "That is what I'm planning on doing… with you."

Angela moved behind him and strapped the headgear to his head, fastening something over his eyes. He couldn't see; he was blind. For the second time that day, Alex was blind.

"Now, Alex," Angela spoke softly in his ear. "I'm going to start with depriving you of your ability to feel, see, and hear." She plugged one ear, moving to the next one. "I'll leave you in here for exactly an hour and a half. When I return, I'll see how you've managed." With that, his remaining ear was plugged.

In a horrifying moment, Alex felt the sensation of no sensation at all.

He couldn't feel, he couldn't hear, he couldn't see. If Mathias happened to deliver a punch or two to Alex's stomach, he didn't think he'd notice. The thought shook him and Alex wanted to puke.

He needed to get a grip. It was only an hour and a half. If he stopped thinking, he'd stop panicking. He could do that. Shut down. He'd done it plenty of times before. Usually before he did something his conscious would disapprove of. He was too awake to sleep. He couldn't even close his eyes. Or were they already closed?

Alex closed his eyes, breathing through his nose.

This wasn't so bad. It would be fine.

_June 13th ; 14:47_

Alex couldn't ever prepare for the sudden flood of sight and sound.

For the past hour and a half, he'd successfully ceased thought. He wasn't sure how he'd done it; it was like he'd blacked out. Maybe he had blacked out. But the minute the headgear and earplugs were removed, he'd been torn back into the world.

"There, there," A voice soothed, "how do you feel?"

Alex tried to spit an answer, only to fumble stupidly over his words. His mind was muddled. He nearly puked.

"Take your time," Angela crooned. She fiddled with the restraints until he was completely free. Alex tried to move out of the chair, and toppled onto the ground, barely able to hold himself up on his elbows. He retched.

Alex felt as if he was drowning. He disposed of the contents of his stomach on the floor and wrenched himself upwards, gasping for breath. His hand reached out for purchase, for something sturdy, and a hand slipped into his.

"Alex! You're looking a little green," Jerome Argent noted, sounding bright. Anger bubbled in Alex's stomach. Though, that might've been the vomit.

Two arms gripped his forearms and hauled him onto his feet. Shakily, he stood. Mathias let go and stepped back, but the woman stayed standing directly behind him.

"How are you doing?" Angela asked again. Alex could see now that she had a notebook, and had been scribbling things down. Observations.

Alex tried to breathe, and glared at her. It didn't have much behind it. Angela, looking thoroughly unimpressed with him, brought back a hand and struck him across the cheek. Alex tottered, and nearly crumpled. The woman kept him upright, however. He glanced up at her, and saw surprise in her expression.

"How," Angela said slowly, her stare sharp, her tone dangerous, "are you doing? Be specific."

"I can't _see_." Alex managed. His words were still a little slurred. "Everything is too loud."

Looking pleased, Angela nodded. "I've gotten everything I need." She turned to Jerome, who pushed off the counter he had been leaning on. Jerome smiled and gestured to Alex. The two behemoths dragged him from the room –he was still having trouble walking- and the last thing he heard from Jerome was, "It's a nice gift, isn't it?"

They made it to the cells in record time, and Alex was thrown into his cell. His brain was too sluggish to properly react, and he collided with the ground, using his shoulder as a break. He couldn't risk getting concussed.

The main door slammed shut. Alex struggled onto his elbows and glanced at the door. The woman stood, watching him. "Malen'kogo shpiona," She sounded reprimanding. Alex couldn't make out her face, everything was too blurry. He could barely see her clearly. Without knowledge of emotions or fluency in Russian, he was blind and deaf. For the third time. The irony. "Son. Ne borites." She watched him for a moment before turning and leaving. Alex let his head fall onto the concrete.

He was so tired. His mind sluggishly tried to keep him awake.

"… b. _Cub_! Dammit, fuck- Cub!"

Alex lifted his head. It felt like it weighed ten times more than it should've. Wolf was pressed against his door, eyes intent on Alex. Alex could make out concern and panic. Good, his vision was clearing.

"Wolf," Alex replied. It came out more like 'worllmph'.

"Shit, fuck," Wolf had been cursing up a storm. Alex could vaguely hear Snake's voice, soothing and calming. ("You panicking will make him panic, Wolf!") "What'd those bastards _do_?" He was roaring now. Alex winced, his hands flying to his ears. He curled in on himself reflexively, and when he deemed it quiet enough, he glanced back up at Wolf.

Wolf was staring at him, stricken. "I- shit, Cub. I'm sorry. I didn't mean to… scare you. Are you okay? Did they hurt you?"

"M'fine," Alex mumbled. He had shifted to lie against the wall. Propping himself up would probably induce another vomit fit. He didn't dare. "M'okay."

Wolf's eyes narrowed. "Like hell you're okay, Cub!" Wolf made a panicked noise in the back of his throat when Alex didn't respond. "Snake, he looks exhausted and pale. He can't handle loud noises-"

"Loud noises?" Snake repeated.

"He covered his ears when I yelled."

"_Wolf_."

"I know! I _know_, fuck, sorry. Just- he's pale and he's not opening his eyes much… he looks asleep."

Alex didn't bother to inform him that he was in fact losing consciousness. He couldn't muster up enough strength to, really.

"Don't let him sleep! Wolf, you have to- shit, Wolf he might fall into a coma!" Snake was beginning to panic. Urgency was clear in his tone. "We have no idea what they did to him, he has to stay _awake_!"

His unit called his name, begged with him to wake up, open his eyes, sit up, please. Alex couldn't move. His eyes slipped closed, and he hoped he'd wake up.

* * *

Language:

Malen'kogo shpiona - Little spy, in Russian

Son. Ne borites. - Sleep. Do not fight. Also in Russian.

The Jose Padilla thing is about an American criminal, you can easily find his wiki page.

RTI is Resistance To Interrogation. I figured they did it a lot, so I added it in. :) Thanks for reading!


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